Our lives are dictated in action by the mood we are in. In this world that we live (crossdressing) it can be amazing the mood transformation that happens the instant we begin the process of becoming our inner woman. Troubles fall away, smiles return, and for a brief moment things seem to be aligned. I know that’s how it is for me.
My writing also tends to reflect my emotional state. Most often when I’m writing these blogs, I’m dressed (although I tend to skip the press on nails… you know… typing and coffin nails can be exasperating…) For those who have followed me, you know that I’ve been dealing with a declining father. This last week has been exceptionally tough. He’s sleeping all the time. Talk to him and he’ll nod off. His appetite is gone, and solid foods are hard for him. He religiously still drinks his beer each day, even if it takes him four hours to do so. The man who was OCD about his medications, now could care less if he takes them. It adds up to the end of life having more pull for him than sticking around.
I follow along with his mood. My need to shave and be pretty have gone out the window this past week. I’ve still dressed a few times and think about it more. What will it be like when my father is gone. Will I become Alice and follow the Mad Hatter? These are reoccurring thoughts that highlight my mood. In no case have I thought about packing up Brina’s things and manning up; those days are forever behind me. It would only be the second time in my life where I could be absolutely free and open. Talk about a scary and exhilarating thought. After my divorce, I dove deep for about a year of experimentation and discovery. Shame, guilt, fear drove me to seek out another relationship to prove… something… It also didn’t last, but it was a learning experience.
Does being a CD highlight our moods? Direct them? Challenge them? Run contrary to them? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. I don’t believe there is anything else in our lives that have more impact on us than being a crossdresser, especially one that is in the closet. Just when it appeared that the world might become more tolerant, it has instead turned ugly. For many, I’m betting the closet door has been shut and boarded up, barred, and with a watchdog guarding it. Fear is more than scary; it can be debilitating. I alternate between sadness, acceptance, and even some expectant happiness when my father’s situation is resolved. As hard as it is on him, being a care giver is tough, but something I will never regret.
This moment, this mood, will change and flip at the toss of a dime, much like the fantastical transformation we go through when shredding the mood of male for the enticement of femininity. It matters not if that is demonstrated by merely wearing a skirt, or nylons, or going all in and swimming laps in the pool of womanhood. I often wonder if a man who is deep in depression wouldn’t suddenly feel lightened by being transformed into his best female version. Maybe… they just don’t realize the benefit. Are those who attack us in the political arena actually closeted CDs going through their own spiral of shame and doubt, acting out against the thing that they refuse to accept? Could be. Would explain a lot…
Why does clipping on a pair of dangling earrings suddenly improve my mood? I love to look into stereograms (3D mind puzzles that you have to refocus your eyes to see the image) and change my perspective. Living as a crossdresser is much like one. What we see on the outside is the two-dimensional image depicted and not particularly exceptional, but when those of us who can see the hidden image beyond, it becomes extraordinary and amazing. That is my take on being a crossdresser or something slightly more. We have to be able to refocus to see the wonderment of being who we are. Ask many of us who have been at this for a long time, and accepted this part of us, if they wish they’d never come to know it, experienced it, or even followed Alice down the rabbit hole into it, and I bet they, like me will tell you that this is simply me, or one aspect of being me. Without it, I’m not the same, or even a better person.
I get that this is a somber posting, but it is also hopeful and retrospective of how our moods change to fit the moment. The point is whether or not we initiate the mood, or if the mood drives us instead. We say we get lost in the moment, the “Pink Fog.” Are we lost in it or are we grasping for it, allowing it to enable us? I remember when I didn’t know what I was, and how it would fill me with self-hate and exhilaration at the same time. In the fog there was only happiness… until the end of the moment and the mood suddenly changed. I no longer have the hate, and my mood is more thankful that I had the moment.
This is how I feel about dealing with my father. I’m thankful for the moments that I had in the past and the ones I still get to have, no matter how awful they might be. I’ve reached that same level of acceptance. His time is shorter than it is longer, and I don’t need to live with regrets. I was recently asked about how to do our part in this fight against us. It made me think and it fits with my mood and moment perspective. Many of us play at being “The Man” with our friends and family, many times despising what we say or agree with because it goes directly against what we feel.
So, what can we do if we want to stay hidden and still be supportive. There are those who are “Front Liners” that use their voice and means to lead and be heard. Not all of us can risk doing so. Just being a part of this site is a positive; we help each other with how we share ourselves. It might seem simplistic, but it is very important to those who are struggling to cope. I used an example that I want to share because I think it stands tall in the war of sides being played.
I have a golf buddy who is far right and bigoted. He doesn’t think so, he like many from both extremes who believe they represent the majority and not the 8-10% on either end. He was bashing a trans teen in a nearby small school and criticizing drag performers. My normal response is no response. He usually makes his comments and moves on to the next topic. He kept pushing at me this particular time. My response was, “I believe that every human has rights regardless, and I love drag shows. I’ve even been to a couple, and you should go see one.” He wanted to attack but couldn’t. He agrees with the first statement, and he’s never been to a drag show. I effectively ended the moment and set a different mood. His choice was whether or not he wishes to keep playing golf with me. So far he does, and he still makes the occasional comment.
My point is that to do something doesn’t mean we have to wear our dress in public. We can be more supportive by not agreeing and being false with others to maintain a “hard stance” as they do so we look good. We don’t need to go to battle in a war of words either. Every person is human, and each of us deserves basic freedoms and respect. I will fight for my right to be middle of the road and not be pushed into choosing this or that. Because I am equally both this and that. I’m not afraid to say so, not anymore.
Enough for now…
May your moments be ones of great moods and your moods lead you to great moments.
Until next time…
** Editor’s note: I originally posted this on CDH, our sister site. While it mostly deals with being a crossdresser, I’ve always stated that I’m something more. I believe many of my thoughts resonate for those here as well.